I was a winter desert devoid of warmth or a droplet
Of succor, when a fair fair-minded friend appeared, serving me
Up on the edge of a morning mountain, where a warming brew
Waited, steaming, wanting to kiss the chap away from my lips.
An undesignated time had passed when a path opened
That would allow us to meander our way down to progress.
Upon the thin strand where our feet found their footing fell also
A shadow.
The oncoming spring brings clouds and bright rain and smiling green
Spider-legged patches of impermanence dotted and webbing
Across the shifting floor of the desert. We came like the spring
Approached by descent, the pathway of a journey a constant
Halfway in the moment when the shadow fell upon the earth.
Spring cloud’s gray and piercing sun’s ray both fall against the figures
Of once-green desert verdure and the shadows they cast as we
Cross and pass.
Summer will be soon and after the harvest when desert cools
Once again. Then, that shadow stretch will be far behind us
Other tasks will demand our attention, which gladly we’ll give
As gray spring clouds did, their offering sowing, sprinkling promise.
What fear I felt when I was in a drought the shadow jumped out
To alert me. But your whisper beside kept me in my stride and gravity
Still pulls me forward. Despite memory and want of water
I am slaked.
